


it's taking up a fraction of my mind

by izzetboilerworks



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, canon compliant with unfortunately the red sox winning the world series, soft big feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzetboilerworks/pseuds/izzetboilerworks
Summary: "Well, Chase said," or "I was talking to Chase earlier", and "When Chase and I went for lunch the other day…"And, for the most part, he ignores the way Cody Bellinger's eyebrows creep up to his hairline. Except he doesn't know why.





	it's taking up a fraction of my mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [addandsubtract](https://archiveofourown.org/users/addandsubtract/gifts).



> Yes, this title IS from a Selena Gomez song. 
> 
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS \o/!

Chase is a good influence. Not just to Kiké, but to everyone who plays for the Dodgers. There's a certain level of elevation; he just brings people up with him. It's hard to not be impressed, not to follow-- like little ducklings after a momma duck.

After all, Kiké likes to make jokes about how Chase is their _elder_ and impress upon how large the age difference is. 

He starts calling him Dad mostly as a joke. Because it makes Chase smile, lips quirking, and roll his eyes in a fond and affectionate manner. Chase knows it's a joke and Kiké can't help but keep saying it. There's a lot of admiration there. 

Kiké's looked up to Chase for who knew how long, long enough to where it's just a matter of fact. He feels, sometimes, he talks about Chase a lot. 

"Well, Chase said," or "I was talking to Chase earlier", and "When Chase and I went for lunch the other day…" 

And, for the most part, he ignores the way Cody Bellinger's eyebrows creep up to his hairline. Except he doesn't know why. 

Kiké gets to the clubhouse early so he can work out with Chase, and follows his diet in a totally not-creepy manner, when he goes behind him when they get lunch and orders the same thing. Those times too, Cody gives him a look. 

And Kiké snaps -- "What?" at him and Cody laughs. 

"It's nothing." 

Kiké's not sure it's nothing, but Cody keeps his lips sealed and Kiké forgets to ask him about it later. 

*  
"Ya ever see that cartoon, where the tiny dog follow the bigger dog around and he yaps at him, what we gonna do today?" Yasiel asks when Kiké-- Chase is nowhere to be found-- sits with him before a game. Kiké is only half listening as he laces up his cleats. 

"No?" Kiké says, shaking his head. 

Yasiel laughs, warm and bright. 

"That's you and Chase." Yasiel messes up his hair when he goes to leave and Kiké makes a frustrated noise, but he doesn't know what Yasiel is talking about so it obviously can't be true. 

"You ever seen that cartoon?" Kiké asks. Yasmani is across the aisle from him, fingers messing with the straps on his catcher's gear. 

"Ahh, maybe. The little dog kind of loves the big one. Wants to hang out with him all the time." Yasmani flashes him a smile and Kiké isn't sure if he wants to pout, or not. 

"That's not true." Kiké says and Yasmani doesn't disagree so he's probably right. He leaves Yasmani when he sees Chase enter the clubhouse though and he sits with him, close enough so he can look at his tablet with him, and they go over possible pitchers together. 

Chase usually has people around him, but Kiké always tries to get the best seat, and it's just to soak in his knowledge and his experience. Chase is so smart, he's such a good player, and his breadth of experience is a worthwhile resource. 

Kiké is incredibly fond of Chase and it has nothing to do with his blue eyes or the way they crinkle when he smiles. 

Kiké especially doesn’t work hard at fixing things-- offensively or defensively-- just so that Chase turns that smile on him proudly. 

*

"Chase and I were going over the pitchers, and he doesn't think the starting pitcher is going to go too deeply so he says to prepare for the relievers." 

Ostensibly, Kiké is at lunch with Chris and Cody. Realistically, he's on YouTube watching pitch compilations of possible relievers they would see. 

Judging by the starter's last few starts, this isn't bad advice. But he pauses the video when he notices that Chris is sliding Cody a five dollar bill. 

"What?" 

"We had a bet," Chris says, "of how soon it'd be before you brought up Chase." 

"I tried to game the system and thought I'd bet against odds, but-- this was an impressively short time," Chris continues. Kiké glares at him. 

"I mean, he almost lasted five minutes, that's gotta be a record." Cody's tone is incredibly cheerful, nearly suspicious; he shakes his head and goes back to whatever he was looking at on his phone. 

*

Cody accuses him, later, of having a crush on Chase. Which is patently _absurd_. For a multitude of reasons, but the main ones being he just respected and looked up to Chase and the other being he was far too old for something like a crush. It wasn't like this was the minor leagues. 

His admiration for Chase was purely from the perspective of one professional to another. Chase's experience and skill were something to be admired and it made sense for Kiké to take advantage of soaking up as much of that knowledge as he could. 

Which also wasn't to say that Chase wasn't attractive. 

But the love he bore for Chase was that of a teammate, or a trusted friend, or a surrogate son-- well, that was a little stranger, but Chase seemed to like it. 

It wasn't like Kiké was making moon eyes at him, or thinking about the times he touched him, or holding hugs too long when he did give them. It's not like he thought about Chase's eyes or how soft his hair looked or how big his hands were or how strong his biceps were. 

Cody's being _ridiculous_. 

"You're being ridiculous," Kiké says aloud and Cody shrugs his shoulders. 

"I'm just saying, you can legally get married in California, since you love him so much, and you should marry him." 

Kiké rolls his eyes. 

"Are you twelve?" Kiké says and Cody laughs and wanders off to go and see Chris. Kiké notices when Chase walks in and bites the inside of his mouth when he notices that Cody and Chris are watching him. Kiké doesn't have a crush so he doesn't have to go over there and say hi. 

In fact, maybe a break would do him some good; he has his own things to focus on, and he doesn't need Cody and Chris making up false things anyways. Kiké watches as Chase leans against a locker and chats with Yasiel, easy posture, where he looks almost relaxed. 

Kiké meets Chase's gaze for a moment and feels something strange roll through him when Chase flashes him a soft, easy smile. 

It's just a reaction to Cody's stupid accusation. He grabs his batting gloves and leaves to go and do that as quickly as possible. There's something almost oppressive about the atmosphere. 

*

Chase announces his intention to retire at the end of the year and not too long after it, Kiké sits down to write out a small tribute to him. He writes about how thankful he is and how touched he's been by Chase. He knows that he's incredibly lucky. 

He ends it on a joke about how Chase isn't going to get rid of him. 

Everyone, in these retirement tributes, say that they love their teammates. It doesn't mean anything, even though Cody raises his brows at him, with a little subtle head tilt, a knowing smile. Kiké knows it doesn't _mean_ anything. 

And it's just in a friendly, teammate, mentor kind of way. 

He flips Cody off and keeps his attention on his phone. 

Chase is retiring, all this good will and outpouring of love is flooding across his timeline and news sites, and no one deserves it more than Chase. 

Kiké loves him, but that's normal in this sentimental game.

Kiké loves Chase. The more he says it in his mind, the less he thinks it's actually just as a friend. 

*

Once he notices, he can't _stop_ noticing. He brushes his fingers with Chase's and there's a spark, he hugs him and he doesn't want to let go. He feels a _yearning_ and he's not sure what to do with any of it. 

Truly, there's nothing standing in his way of just-- telling Chase. 

But there's the fallout, the incredibly real possibility that Chase will look at him with disgust and stop being his mentor and his friend. 

And, of course, there is the simple fact that he only has to keep it under wraps for a few more months. This is the last year they'll play together. Kiké has hidden it well enough-- well, he supposes _mostly_ well enough, even though Cody and Chris somehow knew before he did. 

Maybe this is all a reaction to that, to everything changing, to Chris and Cody and Yasiel making stupid jokes at his expense. There's no way he feels this way about Chase without the external influence. He loves Chase but he doesn't _love_ Chase. 

Right? 

Right. 

Except, when he really thinks about it, he thinks that they might be right. That somewhere along the line his admiration turned into something more significant. And then once he thinks that, once he knows that, it's all he can think about. 

Kiké tries not to change the way they interact, but he's sure it's obvious, especially to Chase as he's been nearly glued to his side lately. 

This is fine and he can almost count down to the day how long it has to last. It's the seventeenth of July. The season will be over in October. It's only three more months, give or take. Less if they don't go deep into the playoffs. 

(Chase _deserves_ a ring. They should have gotten it before.) 

Chase takes him aside. 

"Are you okay, Kiké?" Chase asks and he sounds so gentle, so concerned, that Kiké can feel the words pounding against his closed mouth like they're trying to break down a door. 

"I'm fine." Kike' wishes he knew what to say but he can't say that he loves him, or that he wants him, or that the prospect of playing without him next year is painful in a way that feels like a knife being stuck between his ribs. 

Chase's smile doesn't dim; it's easy and inviting, and sometimes it feels like they have a secret. Kiké is suddenly taken with the idea of kissing the corner of his smile, then kissing him until he's breathless and then he feels shame for thinking of such a close friend like that. 

He drops his gaze to the floor. Chase squeezes his shoulder. 

"I'm here to talk if you need me." 

Kiké knows he has to get better at hiding this, or doing something about it. 

*

He breaks in the middle of the August heat. Everything else is fine but he wants to spend his time right next to Chase. He wants to pull stupid pranks on him and sit with their knees touching as they go over film together, and steal fruit off of his lunch plate and all the stupid things he'd done before he realized his _feelings_. 

He so very desperately doesn't want to lose Chase as a friend, as a mentor, as a confidant, as everything he is to him _now_. And it's not like that stuff is meaningless, or it isn't enough, it's just he wants more. Not deeper, but lateral. Friendship was precious and meaningful and everything that went with it. 

Chase is close to being Kiké's best friend. That is important too. 

Now Kiké just-- maybe-- wants to kiss his best friend, or cuddle on the couch with him, or take a shower with him but not as a group activity. Or _whatever_. 

He rehearses in his head what he might say, what he could say that wouldn't make it weird. 

_"I have feelings for you and it's more than friendly."_

Or maybe he could just kiss him and see how he reacted, but that could very likely be a quick trip to getting his lights knocked out. 

(Probably not, but you can't ever be sure.)

It's going to be Chase's last season-- and while that was something that was helpful before, it feels like a ticking time bomb now. He's going to run out of time and then all this feeling twisting him up inside will be for nothing. 

*

He finds Chase, later, in the hotel bar, drinking water or vodka or whatever. He doesn't know and he doesn't ask. He just sits by him and orders a beer and then stares at the bar for an incredibly long time while Chase waits for him to speak. 

"I don't want you to go," Kiké says and it feels-- it feels like a lot, too much and not enough at the same time. Chase is quiet still and Kiké wonders if he's ever felt this nervous. Probably. 

But usually not with anything so heavy on the line. 

Games came and went; there were always more games to be played, second and third chances. Even if you put up an oh-for, there was always another game. And even if you lost the World Series, there was always next year. 

Even if there _wasn’t_ a “next year,” there was always pride. The pride of making it. Of being with a team for years, of not languishing in the minors or burning out in college. 

There's no one around them now. The bartender is serving a tired looking man in a business suit at the other end of the bar and it's quiet, empty otherwise. 

"Chase." 

Chase looks at him and Kiké curls his fingers and lets them dig into his palms. It's only another couple months. Kiké swallows, roughly, a lump in his throat. 

"I wanna kiss you," Kiké says and the world doesn't end and Chase doesn't look disgusted of upset. 

Chase digs out his wallet and places money down to cover the drinks. 

"Okay."

"Okay?" 

Chase nods and gestures for Kiké to follow. As if Kiké would ever say no. 

*

Chase's hotel room looks like a mirror image of Kiké's and he can't count the number of times he's stood in Chase's room, and they've talked baseball or failed relationships or any number of things and this time, he feels like he has stage fright, all sweaty palms and upset stomach. 

Chase guides him back, big hand against the curve of his hip, until he's against the door, crowded in, and Chase stays like that, head bowed. Waiting. 

Waiting for Kiké to kiss him. 

So Kiké does. He brushes his lips against Chase's and then cradles his face in his hands. Chase's hand doesn't move off his hip and Kiké strokes his thumbs against the stubble on Chase's cheeks and kisses him until his lips feel numb and tingly. 

When he pulls away, there's a flush on Chase's cheeks and his eyes are glittering and dark. Kiké feels heat flood through him and he slides his hands over top of Chase's on his hips. 

"I like you," Kiké says in what is, possibly, the understatement of the century. But Chase laughs, warm, and the sound covers Kiké like a blanket. 

Chase flips his hands and laces his fingers with Kiké's. 

"Funnily enough, I like you too." 

Kiké leans in to kiss Chase again. He likes doing that, and he thinks about he's going to keep liking to do that. 

*

They make it to the World Series, but they don't win. 

There's always next year and Kiké thinks about how he has the off-season to look forward to this time. 

Chase retires with fanfare and an outpouring of love and Kiké wishes he could say or do more to show how deeply his affection goes. But the media cycle wheels on, with the hot stove and post-World Series media coverage of the Red Sox.

He joins Chase in Sausalito. 

And he sends Cody (and Chris) a text message that just says: 

**you were right**


End file.
